


The Look of Madness

by orphan_account



Category: OFF (Game), ONE (OFF Fangame)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, mostly anyways, mostly good ending, spooky blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21761419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Zone 2 was once a beautiful zone. But now it is white and pure in some places and corrupted in others--tainted by a false guardian and its wicked envoys. The residential area is the new domain of this false guardian--the behemoth Oculi, he who bears many eyes.Fortunately, though, not all parts of zone 2 are corrupted and there is still hope. On the way to bring the downfall of Oculi, Doux and Blight are presented with puzzles on the first floor of the tower, as usual. One of them involves battling a seemingly average spectre--that is, until it alters its tactics.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	The Look of Madness

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in October for a friend! I decided to share this since it's a little boring not having anyone else reading your stuff, ha.
> 
> ONE has always been really up there with my favorite OFF fangames, and fangame content seems to be a little scarce here so I thought I'd chip in a little. Enjoy!

The sky was shimmering with white and blue stars, and even the darkness was glistening black. The moon stood near the horizon, having only risen several hours prior. It had been up long enough for the last of the dusky sunlight to fade away completely, but it also hadn’t been up long enough for it to be too terribly late into the night. It was breathtaking--no light pollution, no air pollution or clouds to block out the beautiful vast expanse--and it was as if no amount of evil could ever touch its graces. It was an eternal marvel, something that would exist even if the world ended.

But not all parts of this world are as beautiful as the sky. The land beneath it was corrupted in parts and broken in others. Split apart by the battle for control, by the fight that had lasted for four years and had only furthered the destruction brought on by the man who sought the end.

The residential area of zone 2 was one of these areas to not be beautiful. Corrupted and laden with horrific eyes across its many walls, it had lost its former grace and was now little more than a pit of hell, centered at a tall building.

That tall building was a tower. 

The tower stood cursed.

The outside of it was a wrongfully gray color--the inside a sickeningly pale yellow-green. The color would have looked nicely on plant fronds in the middle of an open, sunkissed prairie--but those didn’t exist anymore, and they never would ever again. Now the color was subject to appear as part of a monster’s demented grip on reality; only existing for such a time before it would become white just as everything else was.

It didn’t really matter if everything was blank with white. As long as the false guardians (and that also meant his siblings) were out of the picture, Blight didn’t really care, because that would mean that he would get his revenge, and he probably wouldn’t be very much alive to see when the world wasn’t entirely white (provided that that ever did happen, of course). Even if he died while the world was still “pure”--even if that meant that he died before the world was “right”--to be honest, he didn’t really care about that, either.

Well, Doux seemed to care, so maybe he should care at least a little.

“Hhhhh… hhhh…”

Oh yeah, there was another thing he should probably be caring about.

Ever since they got into this damned tower, Doux’s condition seemed to have worsened. He guessed it was from seeing what things lurked in the residential area, or perhaps just a culmination of his journey so far as a whole. He had to admit--seeing other people frozen over in the ice in Alma, or seeing multiple dead bodies in the mall (that one was his own fault…), or seeing copious amounts of blood, or seeing people with their eyes cut out, or seeing the spectral monstrosities they’d encountered… it was all pretty traumatizing.

He’d seen it a thousand times before, but he could imagine that these things would really get to someone who has never left their home and has never seen the true horrors of the world. Someone who was always in the comfort of safety and always with the protection of their father. Although, honestly, he was impressed with how Doux seemed to be taking it--he still hadn’t lost that smile of conviction he always seemed to carry with him. He even hoped that Doux would somehow keep that smile until the end.

It hadn’t been long before they’d entered this place, and they were already assaulted with a round of puzzles, one in the form of a short maze leading to… this. 

Now they stood before a strange marking on the wall--which was, of course--in the shape of an oddly-colored eye. Fitting for Oculi, he thought, but at least it was just a drawing and not a real eye like he’d seen plastered all over the walls, with yellow scleras and hideous rusty blood that constantly dripped out of them. Though the symbol was still not especially pleasing to look at, what with its colors blending badly with the awful yellow-green behind it, at least it wasn’t bleeding. 

At least.

He was broken out of his thoughts when he heard a voice chime from beside him.

“Blight, what we do? Nothing here to press like other puz...zles.”

Blight shrugged exhaustedly. “I don’t know. Maybe touch it or something. That seems to work sometimes, I guess.”

“Okay.”

Doux happily reached out towards the symbol, not wary in the slightest. He was always undaunted when faced with the strange or unknown--it was an admirable trait, one Blight wished he had for himself, as he usually did… but he couldn't let jealousy get in the way.

His hand touched the symbol, fingers splayed, and nothing happened.

“To be fair, it was a stupid idea,” Blight sighed, seeing Doux’s expression suddenly shift slightly to disappointment. He gestured for them to go back. “There must be something else around here. Come on, Doux.”

But Doux seemed disappointed. He stood rooted in place, flexing his fingers on the wall like if he moved them then something would appear.

“No… there something here.”

“No, there’s not,” he breathed out, a bit tired with having Doux go against him on almost all his instructions--it wasn’t particularly annoying, it was just that Doux seemed to want to try almost everything, and sometimes it was exhausting, especially when Blight knew that whatever he was trying was useless in the end (take the roller coaster, for example; on that one he nearly died). “Doux, it’s just a symbol on the wall. Why would it do anything?”

“There something behind wall.”

“It’s a solid wall.”

“...”

“It’s a solid wall. It’s impossible for something to be behind there.”

But the wall groaned and creaked.

Metal tore against itself like a breaking machine, and Doux flinched away, taking several steps away from the wall--and Blight did as well, seeing the spiderweb cracks begin to rapidly form and break, and he reached for his sword-

The cracks shattered and broke, tearing open a gaping hole in the wall and out from it came a monster--it had a thick, spectral body, no legs, gangly hands and arms, eyes stapled shut and sockets worn--and when it opened its mouth it revealed sharp, imposing fangs, a long spindly tongue and a single monochromatic eye. It moved along the ground like a snake--like Goutte would.

“To be fair, I actually should have seen this coming,” he muttered under his breath, baring his weapon. Doux said nothing--his expression quickly became fierce and concentrated and he tightened the grip on the claws in his hands.

The monster immediately set to killing the both of them, readying to attack the nearest target--Doux--first, but its attack was quickly dealt with when Doux lacerated a bloody streak across its hand, causing it to recoil sharply in pain. But the eye didn’t do anything, only stared ahead with vague crypticality. 

No Belial’s meat, no Moloch’s meat, no Abbadon’s meat--if this thing had status conditions as part of its arsenal, they wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

He could only hope that this thing wasn’t strong, either, since they’d run out of tickets not too long ago and couldn't go back to Viola quite yet. The journey back to her would require traversing the corruption outside and then going back through the mall, and he wasn’t particularly feeling like revisiting a certain corridor he had been in not too long ago. At least they had flesh to make use of Doux’s healing abilities.

The battle wasn’t going as anything momentous. They were just surprised by it, was all. Blight would strike, Doux would strike, the monster would strike either of them, the eye would do nothing except shift its gaze between them. Neither of them were doing too poorly, neither of them were taking too much damage--until the monster decided to change its tactics. Mere physical attacks clearly weren’t going to take them down.

Suddenly, the eye’s pupil quickly focused on Doux; meaning he was the next target. Instantaneously the monster turned to him and extended its reach, and struck him with its ethereal claws--but it didn’t really leave much of a mark. A weak attack, certainly.

Only a faint set of three clawmarks were left on his arm, and Blight was confused as to why it would use such a worthless attack. Its stronger attacks had done little to nothing in deterring either of them, but Doux’s expression violently shifted. He lost the determination and concentration he usually had while fighting and it was instead replaced with rage, his eyes alight with blankness and his teeth bared sharply. The rage wasn’t right though. It wasn’t anger. Or perhaps it was. But it wasn’t towards what they were fighting... much rather, Blight recognized it as…

The look of madness.

He had seen that before a lot. Mostly on his own face. In a broken mirror.

Oh well, that was over. 

Probably.

But he didn’t know what to do. His mind told him to try to help, but he couldn't--he could only stand frozen in place as he watched Doux raise one of his hands and gouge the wound deeper with his metal claws, right where the monster had attacked him, and the true effect of the thing’s attack became frighteningly apparent. Doux bared his teeth as he inflicted the wound and he could see his breathing pick up, the dry coughing and panting returning as he saw Doux’s hands and eyes begin to wither black and scald, and it must have been painful because then he screwed his eyes shut and he teared up and began to cry-

And he did it again, the same arm but on his forearm--another deep gouging cut, deep red blood springing from the wound.

But still he didn’t know what to do. He’d never seen madness of this kind take effect on someone else. 

What should he do? What should he do?

Doux was his only friend. Doux was the only way out of this hellhole. Doux was the only one he’d ever truly wanted to help, and the only one that had ever truly wanted to help him.

What was he going to do? What was he going to do?

It was risky to ignore the monster’s presence and risky to get Doux’s attention when he was like this--but he took the chance while he had it.

“Doux, calm down!”

But he was too late.

The monster attacked again, again with its phantasmal claws, and again Doux cried out in pain. Blight’s grip on his weapon tightened. He watched Doux fall to the floor, incapacitated and unable to fight. He was tremoring, shaking there on the floor… he looked helpless, and it filled Blight with a brief sense of familiarity and guilt.

He watched this happen and was too shocked to move. Doux had always seemed like the paragon of tenacity before. Always standing, always driven, always ready, even when he was weak and tired, even when he had been beat down and poisoned by Chahal following the impostor’s defeat, and even when it had seemed that all hope was lost. But this thing had reduced him to this. It was like watching someone fall from their grace--it was like stability being torn down without fault, like watching his own self be ripped apart…

So this was what it was like to watch someone you care about get hurt.

Now Blight felt nothing but a burning rage. He would not let this thing get in his way. How dare this thing do this. How dare it think it can take away what little he has. How dare it hurt a child. 

Or perhaps, even, more specifically... how dare it hurt Doux. 

But he’d never tell him that. For now, at least. He trusted him but he had to be certain of some things first...

The uncertainty dissolved into nothingness, now consumed by the blinding fury he had felt many times before--but now with a new intensity. He now knew what to do. 

He was petrified before but he impaled his blade in the monster right through its ghastly soul and ripped it apart from the inside out-

-and he heard the monster cry out pathetically, he couldn't care less about its agony-

-and he could feel faintly his hands and eyes burning-

-and ethereal flesh was tearing at the seams-

-and the blood was deep across the collar and front of his shirt-

-and the eye on the monster’s tongue was nothing but a broken sclera and a fractured pupil.

And it had been done.

He was breathing hard by the time he was finished. He looked down and saw blood on his hands. 

He had never attacked something like that before. He’d lost track of time or even what he was doing. 

All he knew was that the monster was now in front of him, torn to pieces and dead. But he liked it that way.

By the time he could recover properly and get his grip back on reality, he turned his attention to the tremoring figure on the floor. The scratches Doux had given himself were still open and bleeding a dark red, and his tears were more evident now--he could hear him sobbing gently, quietly, like he was almost trying to hide the pain or make it go away. His breathing was heavy and labored, a sign that he was still very much affected by the madness.

Blight sheathed his blade again and stood unsure. He was never very good at this sort of thing. Calming people down was always strange to him--he’d always stayed detached from most emotional contact, not out of a lack of desire for it, but more so that there was just never anyone to do it with. So given the opportunity, his inexperience always came through for worse… 

Cautious on his approach, he hovered his hand over Doux hesitantly. He wasn’t the one with the healing around here--that was always Doux’s job. He’d always thought that the roles would be reversed, that he’d be the one in this condition and Doux would be the one having to help him.

“Hhh, hhhh, hhh…”

One of Doux’s claws scratched at the floor in desperation, the other hand tearing at his hair like the claws wanted to impale his brain, tangled sharply between strands of white. Blight sat down next to him, keeping his hands to himself--he didn’t know what would happen if he tried to make contact with him at the moment.

He tried to keep his tone soft, if that was even possible. “Doux.”

Doux’s reaction was visceral. He twisted on the ground and cried out incoherently, claws cutting deeper in the metal ground so that white marks were visible. Thin dark lines trickled to Doux’s upper arm and the tears blackened and thickened.

He tried again. “Doux, you need to calm down. I know it’s hard to control the madness, but you have to try. You’re only making it worse.”

“Hhhh, hhh… hhhh…”

The panting slowed somewhat, but it was artificial. Clearly not a sign of relaxing but rather an attempt at forcing calmness. Blight sighed.

“Come on. If you calm down, you will be able to heal yourself. Or maybe you can right now. You still have competence left, right? Just try to keep your focus on that. You have to try.”

“Hhh… hhhh… hhhelp…”

The word came out in a hiss. Help. But how could he help? He’d promised to not be a burden back in the mall not too long ago, when he’d first got himself directly involved in this whole quest to save Doux’s father and get his own revenge on his creators.

He’d promised to help as much as he could. But how could he help now? What did someone do when this happened?

Biting back the fear of being hit--after all, the worst that would happen is he’d get a bleeding gash on his arm, nothing much to worry about--he pat him gently on the shoulder, keeping his teeth clenched. Doux shivered violently at the touch, but did nothing else.

“I don’t know how to help you. You need to get up so you can help yourself. I can’t fix your condition. I’m… sorry.”

He had intended to be somewhat standoffish, maybe as some attempt to inspire action in him, but it came off as apologetic instead with his last words. Doux paused for a long moment, like he was thinking over what he had said, before dropping the hand on his head to the ground heavily, relaxing his intense grip on his claws. But he still didn’t get up, and he could see with his back that Doux was still breathing quite heavily.

“See, it’s wearing off,” Blight added reassuringly. “It’s not as bad as you think it is. It’s going to be alright. I’ve gone through this before. You have better control than I do, so you’ll be fine.”

Another pause.

Doux let go of the claws on his hands, hesitantly, slowly, and let them rest on the floor with a clinking noise, managing to push himself off the ground and onto his hands. He let out a breath.

“...Th-thank… thank for help.”

Blight removed his hand from Doux’s shoulder--physical contact was unnecessary, now, that Doux was better. He wasn’t able yet to rid himself of the feeling that being this sentimental wouldn’t help him in the long run. It’s not like he hated Doux--or even disliked him, for that matter--but he had always been solitary, and being comfortable around other people wasn’t his forte even if they were people like Doux. Someday he’d learn.

Sitting back on his legs and knees, Doux finally raised his face and he looked pretty awful. His bangs were mussed and crooked, his eyes a bit sullen, and his face was scratched. But somehow, he still found the strength to smile--a genuinely happy one, one that made his expression brighten, and Blight almost felt a twinge of pride for being able to get Doux to recover. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Doux could have gotten back up by himself…

Eh, he probably could. Doux didn’t need his help to do that. Doux probably didn’t need his help very much at all… 

“Thank for help!” Doux repeated, now with more energy. His expression darkened a little. “What happen?”

“Eh, you just lost control a bit,” Blight said dismissively. “Really, though, you had me worried for a second there. You have to learn to keep yourself calm when that happens.”

“Oh,” the other replied, now looking even more downcast. “Doux sorry. Not know how to keep calm by self…”

“Fine, but about the cuts. They’re still bleeding. Fix those while you can.”

In the blink of an eye, all that was left of the lacerations on Doux’s arm were dull and faint scars, somewhat grayer than the rest of his stark white skin. Doux’s Blessing competences were really quite something--again, Blight found himself wishing that he’d had the same abilities. Don’t let envy get in the way… 

“Blight bleeding too?” Doux chimed again, cocking his head slightly to the side. At first, Blight thought he was talking about the blood that constantly dripped down to the side of his face, thanks to his body’s degradation--but then he remembered the blood coating the front of his shirt, and so too with that memory came the one of him splitting the monster’s body open, how good it felt to get such a small revenge on such a vile creature-

“Don’t worry about it. It’s none of your concern. I’m not hurt.”

Doux’s beaming smile returned almost instantly. “That good! It be bad if Blight was hurt too. Good thing Blight here! Then who help Doux?”

“I dunno. Yeah, good thing I’m here… right.”

He knew that Doux only meant it as a compliment of some sort, but it just made him uneasy. He just hoped that Doux knew he wouldn’t be around forever.

He wondered how it felt to have someone you care about die.

Well, he knew how it felt to almost have someone you care about die… and that was crushing. Maybe it was something like that. But worse. Something that would make him go mad and something that would never allow him to return to sanity.

“In any case, it’s dark, and you’re not really good to fight anymore after that,” he suddenly continued, breaking the silence between them. “There are monsters that only thrive in the dark here, too. We’ll fight the guardian in the morning.”

“But what about Papa? Doux has to hurry to save.”

“They won’t do anything to him. They might be strong, but they want to keep him alive for whatever reason. Besides, you’ll never save him like this. The guardian will crush you, and probably me as well. You’ll have better strength if you sleep.”

Doux hesitated. “Okay,” he agreed. “But Doux scared to sleep here…”

“There’s nothing here. I doubt there would be monsters at this level of the tower, except for that one we just fought, of course. So don’t worry about it. I’ll watch out for you, anyways. I’ll wake you up if something comes in here.”

“Blight protect Doux? Don’t Blight need sleep too?”

“Yes,” he sighed, running a hand over his face, “but I probably won’t get any. It’s not especially easy for me.”

“But Blight need strength too.”

“Look, don’t argue with me. Just go to sleep. I’ll be fine in the morning.”

The child scratched the ground nervously, taking a cautious glance over his shoulder before looking down on the ground, like he was scared of what he was about to say.

“...Can Doux sleep next to? Not easy for Doux to sleep without Papa…”

Doux crept somewhat closer, as if encouraging him to say yes. Blight considered saying no, there’s no way he’d ever let someone do that; he’d much rather have Doux sleeping halfway across the room, so he could finally get some rest of his own for once. 

But yet he felt like he was responsible for Doux. Blight was the only person in this zone--or possibly in this world--that was both able to and willing to protect a small child. It was his job to ensure that nothing too bad happened to him, that he’d come out of this okay and possibly even save his father. That was what he had promised, after all, wasn’t it? To help as much as possible. This was only another way of helping.

“Sure. Fine. You can sleep next to me. Just… don’t lay on me or anything. That’s weird.”

“Doux won’t!” the other exclaimed, practically rushing over to lay next to him--pressing up against him like a cat would. He slept like a cat, too--curling up so he could rest his head on his hands and legs, putting one hand over his eyes and using his scarf like a blanket.

He yawned quietly, eyelids closed. “Good night, Blight.”

Blight said nothing in response, but Doux didn’t seem to care. His breathing slowed to the point of sleep within several more seconds--lucky, he thought--and then Blight was virtually alone.

But it didn’t really feel like he was alone. Even if there was no one to talk to at the current moment, he’d stopped feeling alone ever since the incident in the mall. He could have never even fathomed that someone could have cared about him. 

As long as Blight was alive, they would always have each other.

He looked up at the ceiling and let his eyes close. He wished for sleep so he knew he’d receive none. 

He had to keep watch, right?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always appreciated!
> 
> I'm thinking about writing some more stuff for ONE, but I think I'll wait for a while to see if people will want to see it. Either way, I'll probably have at least something coming up again in the future at some point. I don't really know how many people have played ONE before, but it's great! It's not complete yet but I'd highly recommend it!
> 
> also yes I do know Buttons exists but he just doesn't talk except for that one time, so... yeah


End file.
